


The Unwelcome Guest

by kethni



Series: Redux [5]
Category: Veep
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: ‘You’re supposed to grieve and then move on. Remember the good and forget the bad. There’s little acknowledgment that it’s never truly banished.’





	

**Author's Note:**

> For CrazyMaryT with thanks for the prompt. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, All!

 

‘It’s a rite of passage,’ Kent argued.

‘She’s _certainly_ too young for those.’

Kent played with Mena’s hand. ‘Then the grotto, if nothing else.’

Sue pursed her lips. ‘You believe that I’m being too harsh.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I merely think that a strange man in a strange place bellowing “ho, ho, ho,” in her face will likely frighten her,’ Sue said.

Kent’s shoulders dropped. ‘I’ll just show her the grotto. There are real caribou.’

Sue kissed his cheek. ‘You’re still welcome to come to the coffee shop with me to meet Charlie and Sophie.’

‘No, I’m going to spend some time bonding with my favourite girl.’

‘I thought _I_ was your favourite girl,’ Sue said tartly.

‘Apologies, I thought you were a woman rather than a girl.’ Kent raised an eyebrow. ‘Was that incorrect?’ 

‘Go to the grotto,’ Sue ordered.

Sue had never known Kent to be particularly enthused about Christmas before, or any other holidays generally. He wasn’t a holiday person. Nor was Sue. They were simpatico. She liked that. Yet _this_ holiday season he was suddenly invested. It was… weird.

***

Sue met Charlie and Sophie at an expensive-but-worth-it little coffee shop, and ordered a gingerbread latte and a fresh strawberry tart.

‘Aren’t you being good?’ Charlie asked.

‘It’s taking longer to return to my pre-pregnancy weight than I anticipated,’ Sue said.

‘You look great!’ Charlie promised.

‘Losing weight is more difficult when you’re an older mother,’ Sophie said. ‘What? It is.’

‘I am _not_ an “older” mother,’ Sue said firmly.

Charlie was looking over Sue’s shoulder.

Sue turned to look, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

‘You okay?’ Sophie asked quietly.

‘Bad time of year,’ Charlie said, waving her hand.

Sophie turned to Sue. ‘Where’s your rug rat?’

Sue shook her head. ‘Kent insisted on taking her to the grotto. I have no idea what’s got into him. He’s covered the house in tinsel and lights.’

‘Oh, that’s nice.’

‘Already?’ Sophie asked. ‘I have a photo of me as a toddler screaming and bawling because some crappy mall Santa scared the hell out of me.’

Charlie crossed her legs. ‘But Lola is used to older gentlemen with beards.’

Sue stirred her coffee. ‘He’s been in an odd mood of late.’

‘How can you tell the difference?’

‘Soph, don’t,’ Charlie said flatly.

‘What? He’s a weird guy.

Sue took a sip of her coffee. ‘He is,’ she said. ‘He is also complex and frequently opaque. When he does something uncharacteristic, I become concerned.’

Charlie sighed. ‘Has this been the last couple of weeks in particular?’

Sue raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

Charlie toyed with her plate and avoided Sue’s eyes. ‘Mattie was born on December 19th.’

‘You don’t tell me that!’ Sophie said.

‘You never asked.’

Sue gripped her cup. ‘I never asked Kent either. He has always been extremely reluctant to discuss Mattie.’

Charlie took a sip of her drink. ‘Men. They don’t tell you anything that they can avoid.’

‘Maybe it’s not that,’ Sophie suggested. ‘Perhaps he’s forgotten. It’s a long time ago.’

Sue had never seen Charlie look so shocked or offended.

‘It doesn’t seem something that one would forget,’ Sue said carefully.

Charlie took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

‘I didn’t mean to…’ Sophie muttered.

 ‘I love you Soph,’ Charlie said, opening her eyes, ‘and I _try_ to cherish every part of you. But you can be the most ignorant and emotionally tone deaf person that I ever met.’

‘I said I’m sorry!’

Sue stared into her coffee. There were those who relished drama and other people’s misery. Sue was certainly not one of them.

‘I don’t care! You are allegedly an adult. Adults understand that you can’t just say “sorry” and the hurt magically vanishes.’

Sue pulled out her cell and texted Kent: _Coffee shop. Need rescue. ASAP._

After a moment, she received a reply: _?_

_With alacrity, please._

_ETA 3 minutes._

The argument appeared to be intensifying. Sophie was now defending herself by accusing Charlie of living in the past. Sue gritted her teeth. She told herself it wasn’t her argument. It wasn’t her place to be angered.

Sue had never lost a child. She accepted as a matter of fact that it was a crushing blow from which many people never entirely recovered.

It was extremely rare for Kent to discuss it, and he was always very restrained when he did. He chose his words with even more care than usual. He modulated his tone. He endeavoured to turn something devastating into something… prosaic. As if finding a sufficiently bland turn of phrase would render primal pain into something vapid and mundane.

Sue stood when she saw him approaching. He had Mena in the sling on his chest. She stared out at the world in goggle-eyed fascination while he stroked her hand or head, reassuring her with his presence.

‘Ladies,’ Sue said calmly, ‘there seems to be a problem. I’ll call you later.’

She swept towards him before either of them could speak, took his arm, and towed him away.

‘What’s wrong?’ Kent asked.

 ‘I dislike watching other people argue.’

‘Ah.’ Kent gently rested his chin on top of Mena’s head. ‘You and I are probably overdue.’

Sue tilted her head. ‘Fool.’

‘Mmm, Machiavellian mastermind.’

‘Satisfied?’ Sue asked.

‘Yes.’ Kent kissed Sue’s cheek. ‘I was taking Mena to _Build-A-Bear_.’

Sue smiled as she took his hand. ‘You only go there to amuse yourself.’

‘Naturally, she’s far too young.’

 ***

‘They always have snow,’ Sue said, looking at a window display.

‘Yes?’

‘Even in Los Angeles,’ Sue said. ‘I was there one Christmas. The weather was balmy. People were dressed in shorts. But there was snow in displays.’

Kent gave it some thought. ‘Caribou, Santa, and elves have nothing to do with the nativity.’

Sue gave him a look.

‘What we call Christmas traditions are a collection of randomly accreted symbols, characters, stories, and songs that are simply accepted because people grew up with them. Snow is much the same.’

Sue sniffed. ‘That is an unsatisfying explanation.’

‘If you expect humans to behave logically then I fear you are doomed to disappointment.’

Sue raised her eyebrows. ‘I expect them to behave like selfish idiots. I would _like_ them not to be completely random.’

Mena made a noise that was surprising in its sound level as it was impressive in its timing.

‘I’ll check her diaper,’ Kent said.

‘I believe it was gas.’

‘I prefer to be sure,’ Kent said. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘I’ll wait on the bench.’

Sue was aware that Kent did perhaps more than his fair share, strictly speaking. He gave Mena her baths and he changed most of her diapers. Sue read her stories, dressed her, and they shared feedings. When Mena was unwell, Kent usually bore the brunt of the comforting her.

Sue had raised it with him. She thought there might be some kind of misunderstanding or that he felt he had to do more for some reason.

‘You’ll have her when she’s a teenager,’ he’d said.

At the time, Sue had thought he was suggesting that as a teen and young woman Mena would naturally have a closer relationship to her mother than her father. She had privately considered this a rather naive idea. Now, however, she was beginning to wonder if he had meant something else entirely.

He would be seventy-seven when Mena was twenty. Kent looked after himself. He ate properly. He exercised. He got enough sleep. His mother was still going strong. There was no reason to worry.

But Kent did worry. Sue did worry. They worried and they didn’t really talk about it.

‘What’s wrong?’ Kent asked.

Sue looked up. ‘I didn’t see you approaching.’

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked more gently.

Sue shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’d like to carry Mena now.’

Kent cupped her face for a moment, and then showed her the wetness on his fingers.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, kissing him. ‘Let’s go the comic book store.’

Kent blinked at her. ‘The comic store? Why?’

‘You haven’t been in a while. I want to do something for you.’

Kent licked his lips. ‘Sue... are you leaving me?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a good husband and a good father. You deserve a treat.’

He nuzzled Mena’s head. She had a little fuzz of hair like a peach.

‘Okay,’ Kent said. ‘But you would tell me if there was a problem.’

‘I would. There isn’t.’

 ***

Sue thought that the Mall Santa looked subpar. They weren’t in the queue, just by the caribou pen.

‘It isn’t even a real beard,’ she said to Kent.

He lowered his voice. ‘I hear that the elves can’t even do magic and the gifts must be paid for.’

Sue gave him a look.

‘Beards are not low maintenance, as you know,’ he said meekly.

‘Neither are my work clothes but they are a necessary part of my job,’ she said severely.

Kent reached over to touch the coat of a caribou. Mena, now, strapped to Sue, squealed, and beat her tiny fists in the air.

‘I don’t see the appeal,’ Sue said.

Kent looked at the caribou. ‘They have a certain muscular charm.’

‘The appeal in taking your child to see a tired and increasingly irritated overweight man in a fake beard,’ she said.

‘Ah.’ Kent was quiet for a moment. ‘I suppose it’s mostly for the parents. By the time a child is old enough, you’ve certainly realised that you’ll never truly be able to protect them. You may have begun to come to terms with the fact that you will miss a large portion of your child’s life. Yet, for a few moments, you can pretend that life can be fair. That goodness will be rewarded and there are still moments of pure joy to be had.’

Sue squeezed his hand. ‘You’re a good father.’

‘You keep saying that.’

‘I’m waiting for you to reciprocate.’

Kent chuckled. ‘You know that you’re an excellent mother.’

‘Thank you.’

They strolled away.

‘Did your parents not take you to see Santa?’ he asked.

‘No. My mother thought it foolishness. Did yours?’

‘My father did.’ Kent sighed. ‘I was apparently fine the first year. The year after I grew upset.’

‘Sophie said it frightened her.’

‘It wasn’t precisely that.’ Kent scratched his temple. ‘I knew he wasn’t real. I realised in practical terms there was no way he could deliver all those gifts, in that time span, and I knew poor children received less than rich children. So, I was upset at the perceived deception. I was distressed that my father was going along with the charade.’

Sue regarded him. ‘How old were you?’

‘I believe I was six.’

‘You didn’t believe in magic?’

He gave her a look. ‘I was a child, not an imbecile.’

Sue adjusted the sling. ‘How did you know poor children received less than rich ones?’

My mother was firmly in the “children in China would eat this” school of mealtime management,’ Kent said. ‘We also had to volunteer at a homeless shelter kitchen once a month. I use the term “volunteer” only to imply that we weren’t paid. Not that we chose to be there.’

‘Understood.’

 ***

Christmas was slightly more... complex by dint of Mena’s presence. Neither Sue’s mother, Lenore, nor Kent’s mother, Caitlyn, would have demanded their presence as insistently if Mena had not been part of the “package.” Lenore had all of Sue’s stepsiblings and their children coming for Christmas dinner, while Kent’s nieces and nephews were full grown, so Caitlyn won that particular battle.

Lenore made caustic comments, as if their visiting the day after were akin to spitting on the turkey. Which, as it turned out, was not going to be served at Caitlyn’s.

‘Goose,’ Kent said, as they walked up the driveway. ‘Less dry.’

‘I don’t know if I like goose.’

Kent shrugged. ‘If you don’t like it then hide it under your vegetables.’

‘The children of the world all just shuddered without knowing why,’ Sue said.

Kent chuckled and rang the bell.

Mena’s head lolled to one side, almost dislodging her panda bear woollen hat. Sue straightened it.

‘Charlie has strange taste in baby clothes,’ Sue said.

Kent smiled weakly and sagged a little.

‘I –’ Sue began.

The door was opened, interrupting her.

‘Who’s this?’ Caitlyn said, reaching for Mena. ‘How is my favourite Granddaughter?’

‘A little sleepy,’ Kent said.

‘I was talking to Philomena,’ Caitlyn said, taking her from the sling.

Kent rolled his eyes at Sue.

‘Is she going to be okay with Mena?’ Sue asked, as Caitlyn whisked off to the kitchen.

Kent nodded. ‘After decades of caring for children, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, great-nephews and nieces, she could look after an infant in her sleep.’

‘I trust it won’t come to that.’

Kent hung up their coats. ‘I’ll go and get her.’

‘We won’t be leaving Mena alone with any of my relatives,’ Sue said.

‘You don’t trust them?’

‘No.’

Kent strolled towards the door Caitlyn had passed through. ‘What about your mother?’

‘Especially not my mother. She doesn’t like babies.’

Kent nodded at the door nearest to Sue. ‘That’s the living room, why don’t you wait there while I hunt them down?’

There was always something very odd about other people’s homes, particularly the first time that you were there. They never smelled quite right. They were either too tidy or too messy. Nothing was quite where Sue would have put it.

She certainly wouldn’t have put a taxidermied cat in a cat bed on the sofa. It wasn’t badly done, in Sue’s admittedly limited experience, it didn’t look like some nightmare from Davids Lynch or Cronenberg. But it was something that had died and was masquerading, against its will, as something that was alive. Sue wasn’t equipped to deal with Caitlyn as someone who couldn’t bear to be parted from a pet, even in death.

The pictures on the wall had been recently re-arranged, the wallpaper was slightly discoloured, and it only took Sue a moment to see the reason why: a photograph of herself nursing Mena had been given pride of place. Next to that photograph was an older one, trimmed in black ribbon.

‘Kent’s taken Philomena upstairs to change,’ Caitlyn said.

‘I didn’t know you had this photograph,’ Sue said.

Caitlyn joined her. ‘Kent sent me quite a few. I liked that one the best. You’re surprised? It’s a beautiful photograph and a lovely, natural moment.’

‘He’s a good photographer.’

‘True,’ Caitlyn said. ‘But no photographer could coax that look in your eye if it wasn’t meant.’

Sue looked at her. ‘A shame we can’t see his when he took it.’

‘It is.’

‘Kent tells me that we’re having goose.’ Sue said.

‘I don’t like turkey enough to suffer it at Christmas as well as Thanksgiving.’ She cocked her head like a bird. ‘Kent tells me that you’re dining with your mother tomorrow.’

‘Yes. We all so excited,’ Sue said flatly.

Caitlyn smiled. ‘I met her at the wedding. So many husbands.’

‘She’s always looking for my father,’ Sue said, not quite sure why she did so.

Caitlyn pulled her shawl around her shoulders. ‘Did she misplace him?’

‘He died in a crash when I was young.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Caitlyn said.

Sue released a breath. ‘Kent suggested that we name Philomena for him. His name was Phillip.’

‘Ah. I wondered. Older names are very fashionable at the moment. Philomena is an excellent name. One of my friends has a great granddaughter called Mabel, of all things.’

‘One of the girls at Mena’s baby yoga is called Ethel,’ Sue said. ‘I cringe whenever I hear her name.’

‘People need to learn the difference between classic and merely old.’ Caitlyn pointed to a photograph further up the wall: it was trimmed in black lace and showed a middle-aged woman with honey blonde hair. ‘My oldest, Ann. That’s an old name and it stands the test of time.’

‘As does Matthew.’ Sue said. ‘That’s Mattie in the photograph next to Mena, isn’t it? I haven’t seen that one before.’

‘No.’ Caitlyn clasped her hands together. ‘In all the others, he’s in the incubator and full of tubes. I wanted one just of him. The hospital said it wasn’t uncommon. A nice young nurse held him.’

Sue crossed her arms. ‘I see.’

‘You disapprove. Think it morbid?’

Sue looked at the cat and then at the photograph of Mattie curled up in the nurse’s arms.

‘I think Kent is already feeling Mattie’s loss very keenly,’ she said. ‘Charlie said he was born just before Christmas.’

‘She’s a fragile woman,’ Caitlyn said. ‘She has to protect herself. Kent’s strong enough. Loving someone means losing them or them losing you. Kent’s old enough to know that. Mattie deserves to be remembered properly. It’s all any of us can do for him.’

‘Do you have any other photographs of him?’ Sue asked. ‘When Mena is old enough, I want her to know about her brother.’

Caitlyn moved over to the small bar and poured two sherries. ‘I was so concerned when Kent said you were with child. I know there are tests. What if the test was wrong?’ She handed Sue a glass of sherry. ‘What if it happened again?’

‘It didn’t,’ Sue said. ‘Mena is perfectly healthy.’

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you tell me if she weren’t?’

‘Yes.’

Sue turned as the living room door was pushed open. ‘You were asleep up there, weren’t you?’ she asked playfully.

He shook his head. ‘There was an incident.’

‘An incident?’

‘A terrible incident. I think we may have to throw away that onesie,’ Kent said.

‘I’ll go tell cook to start serving,’ Caitlyn said. ‘Before you decide to share the details.’

Sue knew the moment he noticed the photograph of Mattie. He went grey and turned quickly so he wasn’t looking at it.

‘Kent –’

‘Is that Whiskey?’ he demanded, striding over to the couch.

‘What?’

‘The cat,’ he said. ‘What the hell is she thinking of?’

Sue shrugged. ‘People do odd things when they’re distressed.’

‘Do you know how taxidermy is done?’ he asked. ‘This is a travesty. A mockery of someone she claimed to love. Why couldn’t she give him the dignity of a burial?’

Mena started crying. Sue took her from him.

‘Stop pretending it’s the cat that’s upsetting you,’ Sue said.

Kent stared at her for a moment. ‘I’m going for walk.’

‘‘I think your mother is serving soon.’ Sue caught his arm. ‘I understand that you’re upset and angry, but don’t ruin your daughter’s first Christmas.’

Kent looked away. He sighed. ‘I’ll be ten minutes. I just need to clear my head.’

‘Okay,’ Sue said, and kissed his cheek.

* * *

Kent put his hand under the table and onto Sue’s knee. She gave him a small but warm smile. Sue was wearing a yellow party hat. Yellow suited her. She knew it “popped,” and besides, Kent liked her in it.

Kent was wearing a purple paper crown. Sue wasn’t sure about the colour, and Kent had an uneasy relationship with hats. They tended to push his hair back and his ears out. It wasn’t a flattering look.

Mena cheerfully grabbed at the spoon which Caitlyn was using to play airplane with her, and rammed it into her mouth.

‘Just like your father,’ Caitlyn said to her. ‘Always so quick to put things into his mouth.’

Sue tried to hide her giggles.

‘Thank you, mother,’ Kent said, rolling his eyes.

‘Oh, well, at least Sue has a nice laugh. I remember that one girl you dated sounded like a donkey braying.’

Kent poured a glass of wine. ‘I seem to remember a rule about not speaking unless you have something nice to say.’

‘Don’t tell the president,’ Sue said.

‘Nobody wants a president who never speaks,’ Kent said. ‘Although...’

Caitlyn sat down. ‘I was the first woman in my family to vote,’ she said. ‘Now we have a female president.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Kent said. ‘Didn’t grandma vote?’

‘She was in hospital with Roisin the first time she was able.’

‘You have a sister eighteen years younger?’ Sue asked her.

Kent sat back. ‘Catholic family.’

‘Your mother never wanted more children of her own?’ Caitlyn asked.

‘Not biological children,’ Sue said. ‘She considers my stepsiblings as hers. It avoids the mess and unpleasantness of childbirth.’

‘They have wonderful painkillers,’ Caitlyn said. ‘Provided one gives birth in a hospital and not an office.’

‘But at least she didn’t give birth alone,’ Kent said. ‘I was there the entire time.’

Caitlyn opened a pill bottle and took out a couple of pills. ‘Do you honestly imagine I would want your father there? I can’t think of anything worse!’

‘I was very grateful for your presence,’ Sue said, rubbing her foot against Kent’s ankle.

‘That’s because Kent wasn’t raised to treat women as disposable,’ Caitlyn said.

Kent frowned. ‘How many glasses of sherry have you had?’

‘Four.’

‘Four!’ he spluttered.

‘Or five, I forget.’ She scowled at him. ‘I am very old and if I want to get drunk I think I have the right.’

‘You certainly do,’ Sue said firmly. ‘But perhaps you should put down the knife.’

Caitlyn dropped it with a clatter.

‘I never knew why you stayed with him,’ Kent said.

Sue raised her eyebrows.

‘It’s Christmas and she’s drunk,’ he said. ‘When else will I find out?’

Caitlyn topped off her glass. ‘Divorce wasn’t an option.’

‘I understand that, but you didn’t have to keep taking him back. You certainly didn’t have to keep having children with him.’

‘Then you wouldn’t be here,’ Caitlyn said.

‘That’s not the point.’

Caitlyn looked at him rather unsteadily. ‘I loved him.’

‘He treated you... he didn’t treat you with respect,’ Kent said.

‘He kept it out of our social circle,’ Caitlyn said. ‘Thank God I never had one of his whores or bastards at my dining table.’

Kent threw down his cutlery. ‘That is ludicrous. He was the adulterer. The children he fathered had no choice in his paternity.’

Caitlyn sneered. ‘Drug addicts, thieves, shiftless wanderers. The only half-decent one in the shower is a damn Republican.’

Sue looked at Kent.

‘She means Kurt,’ he said.

‘I believe I have eaten too much,’ Caitlyn said.

‘Sure, that’s the problem.’ Kent said.

‘Susan, would you help me upstairs?’

Sue stood quickly.

***

When Sue returned to the dining room, Kent had taken Mena from the chair and was walking her around.

‘Your mother is lay out on a chaise like Scarlett O’Hara,’ Sue said.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t tell her that. She despises Scarlett O’Hara.’

‘The reason being?’

‘She’s a brazen harlot or some such.’

‘Ah.’ Sue smoothed down her dress. ‘Your mother is somewhat more complex than I had considered.’

Kent stopped. Looked at her. ‘What did she say?’

Sue shrugged. ‘I suggested you might find the photograph of Mattie inappropriate. She indicated a desire to honour his memory.’

‘How did you know I was thinking about him?’ Kent asked.

‘There’s no shame in it.’

Kent sat down with Mena on his lap. ‘You’re supposed to grieve and then move on. Remember the good and forget the bad. There’s little acknowledgment that it’s never truly banished.’

Sue walked over and put her hand to his cheek. ‘The unwelcome guest who never leaves the house, merely makes the gradual transition from living room to basement. Lurking in the dark and surfacing from time to time to raid the kitchen.’

Kent kissed her hand. ‘It’s late. We should think about heading home.’

‘I’ll drive.’

‘I only had one glass of wine.’

‘I had none,’ Sue said primly.

***

Sue took off her wig and ran her fingers through her hair. She watched Kent turn over in bed. It had taken her nearly an hour to get Mena to sleep. She didn’t begrudge him his sleep, but she wished he’d waited. She didn’t blame him for unhappy memories, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about Mena.

Sue changed into her satin nightie and got into bed. Kent was facing her so she kissed him, and pushed her hand into his pyjama pants.

‘Hmm, that’s nice,’ he murmured.

‘I thought you were asleep.’

‘Shocking. Assaulting a boy in his sleep.’ He stroked his thumb across her cheek. ‘You look sad.’

Sue moved his hand down to her waist. ‘Thoughtful.’

‘Bad thoughts?’

Sue kissed him again. ‘They’re not important. Let’s make Christmas merry.’

Kent rolled her onto her back. ‘I was concerned I’d ruined it.’

‘Not for me,’ Sue promised.

Kent pressed his lips to her ear. ‘Merry Christmas. I love you.’

Sue stroked his neck. ‘I love you too. Merry Christmas.’

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> A few years ago, a friend of mind who was a neo-natal nurse told me about posing for photographs for bereaved parents. It was something that would've never occured to me and it's always stuck with me. She'll never read this, but I wanted to acknowledge her experience nonetheless.


End file.
